<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></SPAN>CHAPTER XXVII.</h2>
<h2>'I'D SWEAR TO THEM HANDS ANYWHERE.'</h2>
<p>At one o'clock Lossing and I met the ladies at the rendezvous, as we
had grown to call the Nebraska House parlour, and the little arbour
beside the stream. Lossing, quite himself again, was handsome in his
well-fitting light summer suit, and happy in the prospect of an
afternoon with beautiful June Jenrys, as who would not be? and I was
humbly thankful that I was not, for that afternoon at least, obliged
to wear a skin-tight wig upon my sore and tender cranium.</p>
<p>That they might reserve their strength for the ins and outs of Midway,
we brought to the gate, for the use of the ladies, the two stalwart
chair-pushers, whose work, so far as they had been concerned, had been
a sinecure indeed since the attack upon Lossing, and we went at once,
and without stops by the way, to the post-office. But there was no
letter for Miss Jenrys; and, although I looked about me with a
practised eye, followed Miss Jenrys at a safe<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[239]</SPAN></span> distance when she
entered the office, and kept the others waiting while I took a last
long look, I could see no signs of the brunette.</p>
<p>Midway Plaisance was almost unknown ground to Miss Ross, and her
wonder, amusement, and quaint comments made her an interesting
companion.</p>
<p>'We must see it all, auntie,' June Jenrys declared, her fair face
glowing with the sweet content with her companion and the moment, that
not even the sorrows of her distant friends, which had weighed so
heavily upon her own kind heart, could for the time overshadow or
abate.</p>
<p>'I shall be guided by my escort,' was the reply of my companion, 'and
I do feel that we may forget our anxieties for a time, and take in all
this strangeness and charm with our whole hearts.'</p>
<p>We did not linger long in the Hall of Beauty, the costumes of many
nations being passed by with scarce a glance. But my companions
lingered longest before the queer little person described in the
catalogue as the 'Display of China,' who was a genuine child of the
Flowery Kingdom, and generally fast asleep.</p>
<p>We turned away from the very wet man in the submarine diving exhibit
with a mutual shiver, and rejoiced anew in the sunlight and free air.</p>
<p>The glass-works, interesting as they assuredly were, we passed by as
being not sufficiently foreign; and the Irish Industrial Village and
Blarney Castle were voted among the things to be taken seriously, and
not in the spirit of Midway. Miss Ross was full of interest in the
little Javanese, and we entered their enclosure, feeling sure that
here, at least, was something novel.</p>
<p>We had peered into the primitive little houses upon their stilt-like
posts, and the ladies had spent some time in watching a quaint little
native mother making efforts to at once ply the queer sticks which
helped her in a strange sort<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[240]</SPAN></span> of mat-weaving, and keep an eye upon a
preternaturally solemn-faced infant, who, despite his gravity, seemed
capable of quite as much mischief as the average <i>enfant terrible</i> of
civilization. And then——</p>
<p>'Les go an' see the orang-outang,' exclaimed someone behind us, and as
they went, a sun-browned rustic and his sweetheart, we silently
followed.</p>
<p>The orang was of a retiring disposition, and very little of him was
visible from our point of vantage. As I shifted my position in order
to give the ladies a better place, a familiar voice close beside me
cried with evident pleasure:</p>
<p>'Wal! Lord a-massy, if it ain't you! Come to see the big monkey, like
all the rest of us? Ain't much of a sight yit.'</p>
<p>It was Mrs. Camp, and she seemed quite alone. She put out her hand
with perfect faith in my pleasure at the meeting; and when I took it
and spoke her name, I felt a soft touch at my elbow. I had told the
ladies of my acquaintance with Mrs. Camp, and they had fully enjoyed
the woman's sharp sallies at my expense. I quite understood the
meaning of Miss Jenrys' hint, but while I hesitated, Mrs. Camp began
again:</p>
<p>'I've left Camp to home this time. I've tramped and traipsed with him
up and down this here Midway, but I've never once got him inside none
of these places sense he took me to that blue place over there that
they call the Pershun Palis; no more a palis than our new smoke-house.
But Adam seen so much foreign dancin'——' As she talked she ran her
eyes from one of our group to another, and as she uttered the words
'foreign dancin',' her eyes fell full upon Miss Ross, who at once
said, turning to me:</p>
<p>'Perhaps thee would better introduce thy friend.'</p>
<p>It was done, and in a moment Mrs. Camp was standing close beside Miss
Jenrys, making note of her beauty, and taking in the points of her
toilet with appreciative eyes,<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[241]</SPAN></span> while her tongue wagged on vigorously.
She had taken up her story of her husband's 'quittin' of Midway.'</p>
<p>'He hadn't never no notion of dancin',' she declared, 'and never took
a step in his life—not to music, that is. But he wanted to learn all
he could about furrin ways, he said, so in we went. Well, you ort to
'a' seen them girls. Mebbe ye have, though?'</p>
<p>'No,' murmured June.</p>
<p>'Well, then, you don't want to. Dancin'! I've got an old hen, a'most
ten years old—I've been a-keepin' her to see how long a hen would
live—an' if that hen can't take more honest dancin' steps than the
hull posse of them hourys, as they call 'em. All the dancin' they know
they'd 'a' learnt from snakes and eels, an' sich like wrigglin'
things. Pshaw! I don't b'lieve that ole monkey's goin' to show hisself
to-day, humbly thing!'</p>
<p>When we turned away from the Java Village Mrs. Camp was one of our
party, and when we entered Hagenbeck's animal show she was still
telling Miss Ross and I how she and 'Adam' had not agreed upon a route
that day, and how she had revolted utterly when he proposed to spend
the afternoon 'down to the odds and ends corner of the Fair, among the
skeletins and old bones, and rooins, and mummies,' and how 'fer once'
they had each 'took their own way.'</p>
<p>It was Miss Ross who had kindly asked the 'lone woman,' as she
described herself, to join our party; and she bore with sweet patience
and an indulgent half-smile her many remarks, absurd or <i>outré</i>,
shrewd or unsophisticated.</p>
<p>'I'm sick of that feller!' she exclaimed, as the 'Hot-hot-hot!' of the
Turkish vendor of warm cakes was heard. 'The very idea of a
yallow-faced feller like that takin' to cookin' hot waffles for a
livin'! Right in the street, too! I sh'd think he could get enough
cloth out o' them baggy trousers<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[242]</SPAN></span> to make him a little tent. 'F I was
the boss here I'd make him do his cookin' quieter; he jest spiles the
street.'</p>
<p>In the German Village our party rested, and the ladies enjoyed its
quaint and picturesque cottages and castle, and listened with pleasure
to the German band—all but Mrs. Camp.</p>
<p>'I don't see nothin' very strikin' here,' she candidly observed, 'and
I don't see the need of puttin' up so many queer-lookin' barns. The
house is well enough, but I'll bet them winders come out o' Noah's
ark; an' I can't make so much beer-drinkin' look jest right—for
wimmin.'</p>
<p>As we passed out she was so rash as to pause a moment to look down
into a huge vessel, full to the brim of the queer-looking compound
which the vendor described in a loud voice as 'bum-bum candy.'</p>
<p>'Lad-ee! Lad-ee!' he cried, as she turned away. 'Fine bum-bum,
splendid!' But the look she cast over her shoulder silenced his
eloquence.</p>
<p>'That feller,' she declared, 'has been settin' around here in one
place or another ever sence I've been here with his bum-bum candy.
I've never got closte enough to git a look at the stuff till to-day;
an' I've never saw a soul buyin' it nor eatin' it.'</p>
<p>It had been agreed that we should take a trip in the Ferris Wheel.
With the ladies it would be a novel experience, but when we were about
to enter the car Mrs. Camp drew back.</p>
<p>'Tain't no use,' she said. 'I ain't goin' to risk my neck that way.
It's jest a-flyin' in the face of Providence! I couldn't git Adam to
'smuch as look at the thing when 'twas goin' round. No, sir, I ain't
a-going'!' this to the man at the still open door. But when we had
taken our places and the door was about to close, she sprang forward.
'Hold on!' she said. 'I guess I've as good a right to tempt Providence
as anybody! Don't shet that door! I<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[243]</SPAN></span> want to git in.' As she sat down
beside me she said, with the air of one who has done a good deed, 'I
hadn't orter 'a' let you git a ticket for me, but I didn't feel so
squeamy till I got right here. Seems safe enough though, don't it?'</p>
<p>Miss Ross assured her of its safety, and I told her how thoroughly it
had been tested, but suddenly she broke in upon my speech:</p>
<p>'S-h! Why, we're a-goin'! My, how easy!' She seemed for a moment to
hold her breath, and then I saw her hands clutch at the revolving
seat. 'Land sakes, it's tippin'! Mercy on me, I can't stand this!
Say!' to the man in charge, who was just about to begin his 'story of
the wheel,' 'I want to get out! I can't never go no higher. Jest turn
back; please dew.'</p>
<p>To my surprise, he arose and moved toward the door; then with his hand
upon it, he turned.</p>
<p>'It might make you a little dizzy when we reverse the engine, ma'am.
Just close your eyes tight until we stop, and you'll feel all right,
and not so likely to faint when you begin to walk.'</p>
<p>With a sigh of relief and a shudder of terror, she put her
cotton-gloved hands over her eyes, and sat crouched over in a very
wilted attitude; and I was on the point of speaking rather sharply to
the man, when a look in his eye and a rapid gesture somehow restored
my confidence in his ability to manage the car, and we went on
smoothly and silently up.</p>
<p>We had reached the topmost curve before Mrs. Camp moved a finger, and
then Miss Jenrys, gazing out over the wonderful landscape outspread so
far below, uttered a quick exclamation of delight. Then the hands
fell, she started up and looked quickly around, and for a moment stood
with mouth agape and hands thrown out as if for support or balance.
Suddenly she drew a long, relieved breath<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[244]</SPAN></span> and dropped back into her
seat. Mrs. Camp was herself again.</p>
<p>'My!' she aspirated; and after another long look all about her, 'Young
man, I declare if I ain't obleged to ye jest as much as if you'd 'a'
minded me.' She ventured near the window, and even put her head out.
'My! they look jest like flies a-walkin'! My! we can't look much to
the angels lookin' down. They go awful jerky.' She said no more until
we were almost at the bottom, then she turned to Miss Ross: 'I've a
good mind to go round ag'in,' she declared, and when she was told that
we were all 'going round ag'in,' she drew close to the window and made
her second circuit in breathless silence.</p>
<p>As we left the wheel and came out from the gate, where a crowd was
pushing and pressing for entrance, Miss Jenrys, feeling herself
suddenly jostled by some impatient one, uttered a quick exclamation,
and at the sound someone just before me, and whom I had not chanced to
observe in the crowd, turned quickly, shot a hasty glance at Miss
Jenrys, and as suddenly turned back again.</p>
<p>The face was that of a youth, dark-skinned, and with keen black eyes;
the hair, cropped close to the head, was as black as the thick, long
lashes; the form was slender, and the head scarcely came up to my
shoulders; a slight figure, a youthful face, it caught and riveted my
attention. After the first glance in our direction, the young man
seemed only anxious to extricate himself from the crowd, which he soon
did.</p>
<p>We were on our way to Cairo Street, and when we entered at the nearest
gateway I saw this same youth just ahead. Lossing and Miss Jenrys went
before, and as they turned into the street proper, and moved slowly
toward the east court where the donkey-boys were gathered, the youth,
who had paused as if in indecision, glanced up and down the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[245]</SPAN></span> street
and then hurried away toward the Temple of Luxor at the western end of
the inclosure.</p>
<p>There was much of interest in the street, but the ladies soon tired of
watching the donkey-boys and smiling at the awkward feats of the camel
riders, and turned their attention toward the shops and the
architecture; turning finally from mosque and theatre to the more
private apartments—they were hardly houses—with their small, high
balconies, their latticed windows, their dark doorways, their sills
almost level with the street.</p>
<p>It was Miss Ross who expressed a desire to have a nearer view of one
of these dark and cool-looking interiors, and as we turned our faces
westward I saw across the way, on the inner side of the street, an
open doorway, giving just a glimpse of some dark hangings, a brass
lantern swinging from the roof, and a couple of men in flowing robes
and turbans, lounging upon a divan within.</p>
<p>Beckoning to the others, I crossed the street, spoke to the men, and,
finding that one could understand a little English, asked permission
to enter with the ladies.</p>
<p>It was granted, after a moment's hesitation and a quick glance at his
companion, who did not rise from the divan, and who answered the look
with a grunt which, doubtless, meant consent.</p>
<p>There were no seats in the place, save the rug-covered divan, which
filled one side from corner to corner. The floor was covered with
rugs, and the walls were hung with the same, except where, a little at
one side in the rear wall, was a narrow door, painted almost black,
and having a ponderous and strange-looking latch.</p>
<p>The wall draperies, to me, looked simply a well-blended pattern in
dull blue and other soft tints; just such as one might see in the
shops anywhere. But the ladies were of a different opinion, and they
at once began a close and exclamatory inspection of each, extolling
their<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[246]</SPAN></span> colour, their texture, their quaint designs, their rarity and
costliness.</p>
<p>They had viewed the rugs upon the rear walls, Lossing seeming not far
behind them in the matter of admiration, and had passed to the side
wall opposite the divan, and quite out of sight from the street, there
being no windows on that side, in fact on no side of the rug-hung
room, which was lighted solely by the door, that, standing wide open,
served as a further screen for those behind it.</p>
<p>Mrs. Camp, having faithfully tried to admire the rugs for courtesy's
sake, had failed utterly; and to the evident surprise of the silent
Egyptian, who still sat in his place, had coolly seated herself upon
the end of the divan nearest the street, our host, meantime, standing
near the middle of the room, alert, and evidently somewhat curious.</p>
<p>After a brief glance at the second row of rugs, I had crossed the
small room and seated myself near Mrs. Camp, and a moment later a big
determined-looking woman—American or English, if one might judge from
her face and dress, the latter being full mourning and in the height
of fashion—entered.</p>
<p>She neither spoke nor looked about her, but went, with the tread of a
tragedy queen, toward that narrow dark door in the rear wall. In an
instant, before the startled Cairene could prevent her, she had her
hand upon the door, and had jerked it half open; but before she could
enter, the tall Oriental had reached her side, and somehow instantly
the door was closed, and the woman staring at it and him as he stood
before it.</p>
<p>He bent toward her, and uttered some word, respectful it seemed, but
decisive, and she, with a baffled and angry look, turned slowly and
went out.</p>
<p>But she took my benediction with her. As I sat near Mrs. Camp, I was
in a direct angle with that little door which opened against the inner
wall, and in the moment<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[247]</SPAN></span> while that door stood open I saw, not, as I
thought might be the case, the outer world with the usual <i>débris</i> of
a 'back door,' but an inner room, and in that room, his face toward me
as he reclined, his head lifted, startled perhaps from an afternoon
nap, I saw a man—a man whom I knew.</p>
<p>I could hardly sit there and wait for my friends to sufficiently
admire the remaining rugs; I wanted to get out, and if possible to see
Cairo Street from the rear. For I now remembered that on each side of
Midway, between the houses and villages and the inclosing palings, was
a driveway twenty feet in width, for the convenience of the
inhabitants, who received their marketing at night, and from this rear
avenue.</p>
<p>But my star was in the ascendant. At the moment when I could hardly
repress my anxiety and impatience, a man entered; slowly at first,
then starting slightly, he threw one hasty glance around him, and
strode quickly toward the narrow door, which the Cairene opened for
and closed after him.</p>
<p>'My land!' It was Mrs. Camp who had uttered the ejaculation, under her
breath, with her eye upon the man by the door. 'Say,' she went on,
meeting my eye, 'do you know who that was?'</p>
<p>'Do you?' I counter-questioned.</p>
<p>'Well! mebbe I'm mistook, but he looks the very moral of the furrin
feller 'at changed that money for Camp and gave him counterfeits!' She
half rose. 'I'm goin' to ask,' she explained.</p>
<p>'Stop!' I caught her hand. 'You must not! Leave it to me; I'll find
out.'</p>
<p>I was too full of my own thoughts to enjoy Cairo after that, and was
glad when we set out to visit the Temple of Luxor. I wanted to get
away and to see Dave Brainerd.</p>
<p>It was half an hour after our experience in the place of<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[248]</SPAN></span> rugs, and we
were nearing the Temple, when we were forced to a stand by the
approach of the wedding procession, with its camels and brazen gongs,
its dancers, fighters, musicians, etc. As we stood, pressed close
against a wall, someone came swiftly across the narrow way, dodging
between two camels, and greeted us with effusion.</p>
<p>It was Monsieur Voisin, and when the parade had passed and we moved
on, he placed himself beside Miss Ross, who at once presented him to
Mrs. Camp.</p>
<p>In accordance with her notion of strict etiquette, that good woman put
out her hand to him in greeting; and when the formality was over, the
way being narrow and the crowd dense, I fell behind with her at my
side, Miss Ross having been taken possession of by the cool Frenchman.</p>
<p>For some paces Mrs. Camp, contrary to her custom, was quite silent.
Then as we approached the Temple, the others having already entered,
she stopped and caught me by the arm.</p>
<p>'Say,' said she, in a tone of mystery, 'I must 'a' been mistaken
before about that feller in that house bein' the counterfeit-money
man.'</p>
<p>'Why?' I demanded.</p>
<p>'Because, d'ye remember my tellin' you 'bout that feller havin' sech
long slim hands?' I nodded. 'Well, this feller ahead there with Miss
Ross—he's the one. I'd swear to them hands anywhere.' I stopped just
long enough to speak a few words of caution, and we followed the
others.</p>
<p>Late that night I said to Dave Brainerd: 'Dave, I have seen the
brunette, Greenback Bob, and Delbras.'</p>
<hr style="width: 65%;" />
<p><span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[249]</SPAN></span></p>
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